


Pretend it never happened

by PlumPromises



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumPromises/pseuds/PlumPromises
Summary: Set post season 1.It's been over three months since the source was taken care of, and three months since Macy had been told to just pretend it never happened. Problem is: she can't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for typos. This is coming out as a rough draft, but I really felt the need to write this after binge watching the show over the weekend. I've only watched once so apologies if anyone doesn't come off the way that they should. 
> 
> Also, no promises that this will have a conclusion, but I hope it should as I don't think this will drag out for too terribly long.

More than three months had passed since the source had been divided into three and separated to the far corners of the world, hidden from one another and even from themselves. More than three months that Macy had gotten to enjoy the feeling of finally being herself again. More than three months since Galvin’s sacrifice, the guilt of which still ate at her whenever she was alone, especially at night when she could remember the feel of his touch or the smell of his skin. And more than three months since Harry had suggested that they both simply pretend _it_ had never happened. 

It. But what _was_ ‘it,’ exactly?  

Macy still wanted to kick herself in the butt for ever having revealed to him that she could read his mind in that intimate moment. The source had been flowing through her though, hot and overpowering in her veins and under her skin, pulsing through her like white lightening. It had been brighter than the sun and pure intoxication. With the source beating inside of her she could have done anything. _Been_ anything. For a little while she had been a goddess.  

And oh, how that overconfident goddess had wanted to flaunt her might. That goddess had felt too high and mighty, too strong and powerful and _better than_ . That goddess had been single minded, and she’d been annoyed at the strange new revelation that felt so foreign. She’d been furious that he would dare, _he_ who had been a lover to the woman who had murdered her mother. _He_ who hadn’t known about the blood brought into his bed, the blood on her hands from how many other Elders. 

“...And we all love you.” Harry had said to her that day as they sat side by side on the bed, his small appeal to try and pull her back from the insanity she’d fast been falling into.  

Then his thoughts betrayed him. 

'And god help me, I _do_ love you.' He’d added in his mind, almost surprised himself as it came with a charge of emotion.  

Fear. Sadness. Confusion. Desire. Affection. Longing. Hope. Guilt.

Macy had never noticed it before, mostly because Charity had always been the biggest force around them when it came to Harry’s less familial affections, but as she thought back on some of their interactions together—when it was just her and Harry—she might have known there was _something._ A small spark. She thought he looked at her sometimes when she wasn’t paying attention, but whenever she’d turn to verify, he was already looking elsewhere. He’d been so very good at hiding his emotions. Hell, maybe he hadn’t even known himself really. He had seemed just as surprised as her, and beyond startled at her finding out. 

“Let’s just pretend it never happened.” He had told her the next time she brought it up, that beautiful day at the cemetery when they could all revel in their victory and the peace that came with it. 

But despite those words, she couldn’t pretend. Not now that she knew. Not now that she wasn’t sure how she herself felt. Not now that she wondered if he would have kept it a secret forever, a secret bricked up behind a wall of shame and respect. She had honestly never thought of him in that way before, but now that the thought was there, she couldn’t shake it. There had been some attraction on her part, he was handsome after all in his own way, but he had always been all business, and with everything else that had been going on, and then with Galvin...  

“Ugh we’ve seriously got _another_ meeting today,” Maggie moaned as her phone’s calendar notification went off. “I guess I have to tell Lucy we’ll do lunch tomorrow instead. Again.” 

The three sisters sat at the kitchen table, coffees in hand, while Harry busied himself in the kitchen making breakfast for them all. Macy watched him at the stove, watched how he took such great care to make sure that what he made for them was just right. He leaned over and grabbed another egg, cracking it into the pan with one hand, his fingers careful and practiced, his care apparent in every movement. 

“I’m sure she’ll survive her mid-day mojitos without you.” Mel snarked with wry smile before taking a sip of coffee. 

“Not funny.” Maggie whined. “I’m literally the only person in the world that’ll have to rush for a third time. A _third_ time! Do you even understand how humiliating that is?” 

“You’ll be fine.” Mel said, waving away the concern. “You know exactly what to expect, and now that the source is safe and we’re the ones in charge, things will be under control without anyone having some ulterior motive. Mark my words, these meetings will be a thing of the past soon enough.” 

“You three will do wonders for the magical community, I’m sure of it.” Harry chimed in from the stove, flashing them all a smile over his shoulder. 

“Maybe we’ll finally get some peace and quiet for a change.” Macy said, hopeful. 

“I could so do with some quiet around—” 

The doorbell rang. 

“—here.” Maggie finished with a sigh and an eye roll.  

“I thought we scheduled the meeting for this afternoon?” Mel stated with a frown, checking the time. 

“Did you schedule it our time, or Green Meadow time?” Harry asked. 

“Err, our time?” Mel answered, glancing over to her sisters who only shrugged. 

“Ah yes.” Harry said with a nod. “Time there is a bit different than our own. Did I not mention that before?” 

“Maybe?” Maggie answered, clearly okay with confessing that she may or may have not been paying attention to his lessons on the magical world living unseen around them. 

“You did not.” Macy corrected, the corner of her lip twitching at the sight of his panicked face. “But it’s fine. They’re here now. Just—maybe we’ll need some extra scones?” 

“I’ll get the door.” Maggie volunteered. 

Peace and quiet was not on the menu for the day.  

Or the next.  

Or the one after that.  

In fact, being stand-ins for the Elders was quickly becoming more than the Charmed Ones had bargained for. Harry had their calendar filled to the brim with magical creatures and people from all over, each with their own set of grievances and each looking for guidance and assistance. He assured them that the Elders were never troubled so often and that it must be a phase, but the sisters got the distinct feeling that it wasn’t for lack of issues. No, they were certain that nobody went to the Elders unless the situation was life or death. It was hard enough for witches to trust them. Other beings? Forget it. 

And Macy hadn’t even known so many species existed in the world! It was unbelievable. When they weren’t helping to maintain law and order, Harry had them sat at the table, studying endless amounts of fabled creatures, their rules, their expectations, their fears and wants and anything else he thought might be of use to them. He even started to teach them new languages, or at least some of the basics. 

It kept them busy enough, and for a while Macy was glad for it. The work at home and at her lab kept her mind off other things, things that were far more complicated than destroying rogue demons harassing witches and humans, or disputes among Elves and Ogres, beings that Macy was still trying to wrap her head around in a more scientific way. How had they stayed hidden all this time? What was their physiology? Were there Elfish biologists she could talk to? Ogrish physicians? 

As she sat at the small attic table across from Harry, Macy looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her head still mostly bowed over a book. His brows were pushed together, deep in thought, and she found her mind wandering away from land disputes and how the ancient tribes had originally formed and come to decide who owned what. She wondered instead how Harry had come to be romantically involved with Charity. It must have been when he had been Fiona’s Whitelighter. That made the most sense. Fiona had likely introduced them, or maybe they, like she and her own sisters, had lived together and kept the Whitelighter close at hand. 

She tried to imagine how he’d first flirted with the Elder and decided that the woman must not have even been an Elder at that time. If it was a relationship forbidden by the Elders themselves, then she couldn’t imagine Harry taking that sort of risk. But maybe she didn’t know him half as well as she thought she did. How long had he known Charity before he kissed her? Or had she kissed him first? What brought them together in that way?

Macy considered that Harry was likely not the one to make the first move. He had far too much respect for the women in his charge to ever cross that sort of boundary without explicit indications that it was wanted. In fact—and she smiled at this thought—he probably tried to dissuade Charity from escalating things. Harry was, for the most part, the rule abiding sort, so she really couldn’t even see how any of it might have started. She had her hypothesis of course, but scientific method dictated that before she could form a theory, tests would have to be made. 

Did she want something more with the Whitelighter? Macy decided that she actually might. They’d both been hurt in the past though, and Harry in particular now knew the dangers of dating a witch first hand. If ever he’d been okay with bending the rules on that matter, she doubted getting him to do so again would be easy, even with the Elders no longer in charge. Still, she needed to know if there could be something more between them. 

She couldn’t just pretend it had never happened. 


	2. Chapter 2

After her initial revelation that she might in fact want to explore what could be with the Whitelighter, Macy was quick to realize how disturbing this new desire of hers actually was. 

It had only been a few months since their agreement to pretend ‘it’ hadn’t happened, and yet here she was, refusing to continue the charade regardless of his wishes. Was it that darkness inside of her that spurred this sudden want? Was it her guilt; her lingering fear of being alone now that one of the only men she’d ever loved was gone? She was still mourning for Galvin after all, and she knew that Harry was still in pain over Charity; not just the woman’s death, but the betrayal of her actions and lies as well. 

It had to be painful for him, even if he never outwardly said as much. 

Moving forward felt wrong. Unhealthy.  

And yet...  

The idea of ignoring things any longer was unfathomable. She’d tried to pretend, she really had, but every time she saw him that unspoken moment came to mind again, unbidden. Did he still think about it? Did he still feel that way? They were questions she needed answered, especially if she was going to move on entirely in one direction or the other.  

Problem was how to go about asking her questions without alienating him _and_ her sisters before there was any cause to. If he didn’t feel that way anymore then well, that was a little disappointing, but no harm, no foul, and she didn’t want anyone finding out her motives if that was the case. If he _did_ still feel that way...  

She’d cross that bridge once she got there. 

Point was, she didn’t want to rock the boat. 

They needed him now more than ever, and the last thing she wanted to do was push him away, especially at this critical juncture. Over the last few months Harry had been their cornerstone, guiding them like no other could, and the Charmed ones had learned to lean on him more than ever. She didn’t think they’d be able to manage everything on their plate without him. 

Taking things slow would be the best course of action. Macy was a scientist to her core, and as any good scientist knew, research was one of the first steps in any experiment, and that process was often long and tedious, but essential, and maybe in that process she could investigate her own feelings a little further too. 

But to do so she'd need more information, and she’d need to gather it without giving anything away in the process. She knew how Harry felt, or how he’d felt a few months ago at least, but she wasn’t ready to admit how she felt herself other than that the prospect of being with him intrigued her. Data first; decisions later.  

 

* 

 

She started the next Sunday. 

Macy left for her morning run while the sky was still dark, the air cool with the promise of autumn. As her feet pounded the pavement, she considered how she’d set about things. The most unobtrusive way to start would be through Maggie’s empathic-telepathy, but she’d have to steer the conversation in the right direction so that her thoughts didn’t sound suspect. Then she’d make physical contact with her sister, drop a stray thought, but never ask the question on her mind. Maggie would likely become just as curious about the question, and then ask their Whitelighter, prompting a probing conversation that would hopefully reveal some truths. 

“But what do I want to know?” Macy panted as she ran. 

Harry’s feelings about her was something she couldn’t safely find out through Maggie, at least not yet, but that aside, she _was_ also curious about his relationship with Charity. She knew they were intimate, but how _close_ were they? For him to have no idea that she’d been the one murdering Elders...  

Had the woman shared _anything_ real with him? 

An hour or so later, once they were all seated at the table and enjoying the breakfast spread that Harry had laid out, they chatted about what they would be doing for the day. Maggie had some Kappa obligations and then practice with the Hilltones. Mel was working. And Harry said that he wanted to investigate some of the old Elder laws to get a feel for how they managed the magical communities, just in case there was anything in there they might find useful. 

As the conversation steered toward the Elders, it didn’t take long for Macy to spot her chance. She cleared her throat and grabbed another slice of toast from the plate sitting between them all. 

“I never asked, Harry, but how did they _become_ Elders in the first place? I’ve been wondering that for a while now.”  

“A very good question Macy! I’m glad you asked. According to the ancient texts, the first Elders were primordial gods.” He stated, very matter-of-factly and with an excited smile that conveyed how eager he was to impart new history and information.  

“They governed over all the worlds and all the realms, but they realized after some time that they would require additional assistance, and well—bodies really, as their true forms are rather—formless. That little issue aside, there were simply too many realms and too many people. It was then that they imbued magic upon a group of select humans—the first witches—and made those individuals the Elders of this world to act in their stead on local affairs.” 

“Oh my god, like how _old_ were those women?” Maggie asked.  

Harry chuckled. 

“The witches were not immortal like the gods, and they did grow older as the years passed. Thankfully, they had wed mortals and had children of their own, and soon they numbered in the hundreds and then the thousands. Through a means of magical examination, the Elders found their successors, not always the most powerful of witches mind you, but those with the correct measure of mettle and morals to govern in the way they sought fitting.” 

“So, not exactly a democracy then.” Mel stated once he’d finished. “Why am I not surprised.” 

“They basically tested to find born-to-be politicians?” Maggie’s lip curled in distaste. 

“More or less.” Their Whitelighter conceded. 

“What sort of testing?” Macy asked, genuinely curious.  

“Oh, the usual sort, I imagine.” Harry answered. “Magical aptitude. Training Orb scenarios with morally ambiguous resolutions. It was all very secretive to be honest, and there’s little known about the full process. Only the Elders knew the true scope. The ones who failed had their memories wiped and were none the wiser.” 

Macy touched her sister’s arm.  

“Could you hand me the salt please?” She asked, then thought to herself, _find it hard to believe Charity never told him about any of it at some point._  

“Oh. Sure.” Maggie passed it over, then frowned, glancing at Harry, then at Macy, and then back again.  

“That’s fascinating.” Was all Macy said, avoiding her sister’s eyes as she let the seconds pass. “Would be nice to know exactly how though. Could be useful.” 

“Indeed.” 

“Charity never said anything about it?” Maggie blurted the question when several more seconds had passed, just as Macy hoped she would.

"Mags!" It was Mel's turn to blurt.

“Sorry!” The youngest added fast at the sight of Harry’s startled expression and her own sister's surprise.

“I—no, it’s fine. There’s no need for an apology.” He shook his head and smiled, the sadness and betrayal that the woman’s named aroused laid bare across his face.  

It hurt to see, and Macy was reminded that until recently, their Whitelighter had likely been as much in love with Charity as she herself had been with Galvin. Probably more so.  

“I understand why you might think she had, but no. She did not share this secret with me. There were many things she never shared. This—” he winced, as if even saying it out loud was painful, “was but one of them.”  

Those unspoken words hiding behind his answer hung in the air, and none of the sisters were sure what to say next. Macy had a thousand other questions, but the thought of each one hurting Harry further made her reconsider proceeding. Maggie and Mel must have felt the same because a second later, Mel snatched up one of the vegan sausage patties and took a bite.  

“You know,” she started, speaking as she chewed. “For fake meat this isn’t all that bad.”  

“Not the way Harry makes it.” Maggie complimented with a grin, bringing a look of amused appreciation to their Whitelighter’s features. 

The rest of the day kept them busy. Macy spent her time in the attic, studying up on ancient gods and the Elders. Mel and Maggie went about their usual business, leaving the house empty and quiet. Harry disappeared to do further research of his own, giving any of them little indication of where that might be at. 

A demon attack the next day swept the rest of the week by in a flurry of midnight hunts and late-night binges over the Book of Shadows. There were a couple of close encounters and a few instances of wounds needing healed. It culminated in a battle that left them all exhausted and covered in what could only be described as some sort of green, demonic puss that had Maggie gagging even after Harry teleported them into the foyer. 

“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!” She spluttered with every step, racing up the stairs until the bathroom door slammed shut behind her. 

The water turned on a second later at full blast. 

“I call dibs on the hose out back.” Mel stated as she charged out of the house, arms held out as far from her body as possible, her face twisted in disgust. 

Alone with him now, Macy glanced over her shoulder at Harry who looked just as miserable as she did, his normally pristine hair flattened against his head in the wrong direction, and his clothes dripping with demonic liquids.  

“We can share the sink.” She offered with an apologetic shrug. 

“Actually. I do have a bathroom at my condo if you’d like to use it. I do believe my hair will wash much easier in a sink than yours.” 

Macy reached up and pulled a chunk of something from out her curls and nodded.  

“You know what, I think I’ll take you up on that.”  

After she grabbed a change of clothes and small bag of toiletries, Macy sent a text to her sisters to let them know where they would be, then she met Harry down in the foyer.  

“Ready?” The Whitelighter asked, and when she nodded, he lightly laid a hand on her shoulder and teleported them away. 


	3. Chapter 3

When they reappeared, they were standing in the main room of a nicely sized studio apartment. 

Macy had never tried to visualize what Harry’s own place might have looked like, but as soon as she laid eyes on it, the space felt familiar; like him. The walls were bare brick, and there were a few pictures hanging on them, each one featuring various architecture from who knew where.  There were a few dark wooden dressers, a reading chair set beside a small end table, and to their left, his bed. It sat unapologetic in the room, jutting out into the main space, the linens and blankets folded down and crisp. 

Macy noticed that the reading chair though, it looked a little less unused with a well-worn impression on the seat and a blanket draped across the back. There was no television that Macy could see, but there were several bookcases, each one filled to the brim. She was positive that every book in sight was older than her; possibly even older than Harry himself. On the floor along some of the walls sat even more books in neatly stacked piles. 

If he did nothing else here, he certainly did do some reading. 

On the opposite end of the condo was the kitchen, the bare-brick motif expanding into that space as well, and it was just as warm as the rest of the room. There was an island-counter with barstools that faced toward the kitchen—only two—and the only thing sitting out to indicate it got any use at all was the kettle lying dormant on one of the stove’s back burners. 

The condo looked comfortable and inviting, but what had Harry called it so long ago? Isolating. It made her heart ache for him, and she understood then that there was likely nothing he did here in leisure. No TV, no John Grisham novels hiding between the giant tomes of ancient texts, and she’d bet anything there wasn’t so much as a card game or even a chess board in here. It was a library with a place to sleep, just like their attic, and it held only the basest sense of permanence or endearment. Even the pictures hanging on the wall were devoid of any emotion or personality, like photos you'd find in a hotel room.

“The bathroom is right over there.” Harry pointed to one of three doors. “And there are fresh towels in there as well, along with anything else you might need. Though, if you do think of something that isn’t available, simply let me know and I’d be happy to fetch it for you.” 

She stared at him for a moment, his stray thought from so many months ago ringing in her head again. He’d thought that he loved her. Did he still? Macy almost said something about it, almost broke their agreement to never speak of it again, but instead she smiled and nodded.  

“Thank you, Harry. Really. I won’t be long.” She promised.  

“There’s no need to hurry yourself. I’ll wash up in the kitchen.”  

“Are you sure?” The idea of him leaning over the sink and trying to scrub goop out of his hair didn’t make her feel great, but the idea of luxuriating under some hot water for a while was also highly enticing. 

“Most certainly. Please. Take all the time you need, and do be thorough. This—” he paused, searching for the right word. “—fluid, can cause blistering if not cleansed properly. I’ll be fine." 

“Okay. Thank you.”  

He waved her off with a smile, and as she made for the bathroom, he headed toward a dresser to no doubt find a fresh set of clothes. Macy went to close the door behind her, taking one last peek of him rummaging through a top drawer, then turned to look at his bathroom.  

It had the same brick walls; a clawfoot tub with a cloth curtain hanging from the ceiling; a pedestal sink, and above the toilet were a set of cabinets on stilts. At the edge of the sink there was a single toothbrush set in a spindle made for four, and in the medicine cabinet—Macy couldn’t help but look—there was a single comb, some simple hair product, and a nail clipper.   

She held a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, even if there was no one else there to see it.  

The idea of Harry, their gentlemanly Whitelighter, sitting on the toilet and clipping his fingernails was almost too much. It was just so—so— _normal._ Macy looked inside the small cupboard over the toilet next, finding two large towels, two smaller face towels, and two wash rags inside. 

Again, she was struck by the too-normal vision of Harry leaning against some basement washing machine, reading an occult book while he waited on his whites to finish. She knew he got clean clothes and kept tidy somehow, but still, the very idea of him doing it like a normal man felt strange to consider, and that was in spite of him cooking for them in a very normal fashion quite often. 

Even living under the same roof hadn't revealed much about his personal habits, Macy mused as she peeled off her sodden clothes. Except for his solitary midnight intrusion into the bathroom, Macy honestly believed he orbed himself back here every night. Did he even sleep in the attic anymore like he had once? She’d been so caught up in her own issues over the last several months that she wasn't sure; it wasn't like any of them checked in on him in the middle of the night.  

That, she decided, was something that would change immediately.  

Macy was often up in the middle of the night anyway, and she would add checking in on Harry to her 3am routine. If he wasn't in the attic, then she and her sisters would have words with him. Maggie could convince him to move in all the way; her sister did have the gift of gab after all, something Macy knew she was sorely lacking in herself. They’d even get him a real bed to make it official, and he could ditch the condo for good; be a _real_ part of the family. 

As she stood under the water, Macy closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm deluge as it washed away the evening's activities. She considered that Harry might have been doing this exact thing had she not stolen his bathroom, and while she felt a twinge of guilt, she also appreciated the kindness. He wasn’t wrong after all, her hair was _not_ going to be fun to wash out. With a sigh, she reached beyond the curtain and grabbed her bag of toiletries. 

As she lathered up, she heard some music begin to play out in the main room. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it sounded slow and sad. Something older. Something somber. It was melancholy, but nice.  

Almost an hour later, Macy stepped out of the tub feeling better than she had in weeks, the slow melody of a woman singing jazz easier to hear without the rushing water. Using the second towel for her hair, she sat on the toilet to listen for a minute while she dabbed the excess water from her curls. Billie Holiday, she thought, recognizing the voice. 

Macy closed her eyes to concentrate on the lyrics.  

 _Angels have no thoughts of ever returning you. Would they be angry if I thought of joining you?_  

She swallowed, recognizing the song, and wondered if it was a coincidence that it played now, or if this was the sort of music Harry had been absorbing himself in over the last few months. If the latter were true, then Macy had more to do than just find out his feelings for her; she would have to do some healing of her own, and that would take being his friend first and foremost. She had never been a very good one for him, preferring instead to let Mel and Maggie take the lead on that, but it was time that changed, especially if they could be something more one day. 

Slipping into the pajamas she’d brought, Macy hung the towels, collected her things, then opened the bathroom door to join her Whitelighter. She planned to start their conversation by convincing him to let her stay for tea and getting him to talk, but when she stepped out into the room, she didn’t expect to find him hunched over the counter and looking for all the world like he wanted to simply disappear into it’s surface. 

Billie Holiday sang from somewhere in the room. _Dreaming, I was only dreaming. I wake and I find you asleep in the deep of my heart here._  

Harry’s weight rested on both elbows while his face was buried in both hands. Despite this being his home and late enough for bed, he had on fresh suit instead of pajamas. His hair was damp and clean, his feet already clad in another pair of shoes. His body was still, but Macy got the distinct impression that he wasn’t just resting his eyes. 

The song continued. _Darling I hope_ _t_ _hat my dream never haunted you_ _._ _My heart is_ _tellin_ _' you_ _h_ _ow much I wanted you_ _._  

Realizing she’d been staring, and not wanting to embarrass him, Macy took a soft step backwards, then grabbed the bathroom door again and jiggled the knob to make a bit of noise. She lowered her head as well to make it look as if she were concentrating on her things, but when she glanced up at him through some of her curls, she saw him straighten fast and wipe at his eyes with one hand, his other motioning to the side, switching the radio away from jazz and over to some quiet piano concerto. 

“Macy.” He called her name, and when she looked up, he gave a tight smile. “Feeling better?” 

She nodded. 

“I am. Thanks. The shower was just what I needed.” He nodded as well, and a heavy silence ensued as they stared at one another. Trying to break the tension, she followed up her answer with a lighthearted, “it has um, really great water pressure.” 

“Ah. Yes. Agreed.” The awkward answer seemed to jostle him, and he smiled more broadly before waving a hand toward the stove. “I’ve put the kettle on. If you’d like a cuppa before I return you home, that is.” 

“Oh.” Well that was easier than expected. “That’d be great actually.” 

He moved around the counter and opened one of the cabinets near the fridge.  

“I’ve got quite the selection here.” 

“You’d probably lose your Brit card if you didn’t.” Macy joked, walking closer so she could slide onto one of stools. 

“Quite right.” He said, flashing a warm half-smile over his shoulder. “Now, would you like something herbal to help you relax, or something with a bit of a kick. I strongly suggest the Darjeeling; it’s a nice pick-me-up after a long evening of demon vanquishing, though if you are sensitive to caffeine this late in the day, the chamomile may be a better choice.” 

“The Darjeeling sounds great.” She agreed, leaning forward against the countertop. 

She watched him prepare their cups, his measured scoops of black tea into two infusers both careful and precise. Once finished, he turned back to face her as they waited for the water to finish boiling. The tense silence returned, and Macy wondered what he was thinking about. She was no Maggie, so his thoughts belonged to him alone, and she wasn’t even any good at reading his face like Mel seemed to be. Whatever he thought, whatever he felt, they were a mystery. Maybe, she considered, if she opened to him first, that would get things moving. 

“So, your sisters—” he began, just at the same time as she started with, “Is there any tea for—” 

They both stopped speaking and laughed, then Harry held out a hand, gesturing for her to speak first as he bowed his head in apology. 

“Please.” He offered, before she could protest. 

“I—” she hesitated, then took a deep breath and pushed on. “Was just wondering if you had any tea that could help with bad dreams.” 

“You’re not sleeping well?” He asked, concern clear across his features. 

“No, not since...” She lowered her eyes to the counter, trusting that he didn’t need her to finish the sentence. 

He didn’t. 

“That’s completely understandable. It was all—” he paused, then finished with, “incredibly traumatic.” 

“For all of us.” She looked up again and met his stare. 

“I—oh. No. No, I’m fine, Macy.” He shook his head and furrowed his brow, clearly not comfortable with her trying to pull him in, but she didn’t relent, keeping her eyes focused onto his until he added, “really, I am.” 

But he didn’t look fine. He looked tired. It _had_ been a long few weeks for sure, but this tired seemed to stretch beyond that. His eyes were shadowed by heavy rings, a sign that he hadn’t been sleeping well either, and his skin was a bit paler than usual; his cheeks a little more hollow. It reminded her that he didn’t seem to have the same appetite as before either. At breakfast he picked at the food and shuffled it around, taking more care to watch that the sisters were eating over how his own health fared. 

“Are you though?” She asked. And before he could feed her any honeyed reassurances she went on, deciding that maybe telling him a little truth would encourage some of his own. “Cause I’m kind of a mess. I try not to show it, not around Mel and Maggie at least, but nothing feels the same anymore. _I’m_ not the same.” 

 _And neither are you,_ she thought to herself, _even if you’re pretending to be._  

“But why are you keeping this from them? They’re your sisters. They _could_ help.” 

She crinkled her nose and forced a smile to keep her own emotions in check before she shrugged and answered. 

“I don’t know. I guess because I’m the _big_ sister, and with everything else going on, and with everything that already happened, I—I don’t want them to worry about me. We’ve all got heavy baggage now and I don’t want them to have to carry mine too.” 

“But that’s what family is for, Macy.” Harry said gently. 

“Exactly.” She stared at him pointedly. “And we’re your family too, Harry. Don’t shut us out.” 

Macy hoped this comment would loosen some of the bricks in the wall he’d erected, but before he could answer the kettle began to whistle shrilly behind him. Harry opened his mouth then closed it again, turning away from her rather than speaking. He went to the stove and busied himself with finishing the tea instead.  

Once the cups were between them, he motioned for her to pick hers up and cleared his throat.

“It’s quite late,” he said as she lifted the mug up to her lips to blow across the surface. “I’ll whip up a potion for soothing dreams and get a fresh tin of chamomile to you tomorrow. In the meantime, please allow me to return you. You can finish it there. In better company.” 

Macy wanted to refuse.  

She wanted to say no, that she wasn’t leaving until he opened up to her. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake, tell him that she was right here. That if he thought he had feelings for her then why wasn’t he saying anything? Why couldn’t he even talk to her like a friend? They’d both lost people for god’s sake, and they’d been through enough that they should be well beyond hiding things. 

But Macy knew it would take a while for her to chisel through his defenses. 

So, she nodded and stood, holding her mug with both hands to enjoy the warmth it imparted into her fingers. Harry moved around the counter to join her, and with a light touch to her shoulder he returned her home again. She turned to tell him goodnight, but before she could even open her mouth, he was gone. 

Standing there in the foyer, Macy sighed and hugged the mug to her chest. 

“You can’t avoid this forever.” She told the space where he once stood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't know when I first started this that I would be taking things slow, but I feel like going any faster would feel too rushed and wouldn't feel as true to the characters in the angsty state I've put them in. Sorry for dragging this out!!
> 
> Also I have no idea how/where I'm going to take this, but I gotta imagine that even if Harry doesn't show it on the outside, he's got to be crushed about how things with both Charity and Fiona turned out. Might do a chapter from his POV soon too, just to explore it a little. So uhh.... double sorry if this gets even angstier lol


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Harry didn’t show for breakfast. 

The sisters sat around their table, Mel with a cup of coffee and some toast, Maggie with a bowl of cereal, and Macy with a complete lack of appetite. This was her fault. She just knew it. Harry wasn’t here. That was practically a first. He was never absent unless there was something big happening; or unless he was in some sort of trouble.  

She didn’t think it was the latter, and that meant the something big was probably his utter and total discomfort around her now. One-hundred percent, all her fault. The thought of him avoiding them because of what she'd said made her stomach sick. It was clear even just that little bit of pushing had been a push too hard. And here she’d been wanting to push more! What if she said or did something worse and he refused to return altogether? 

Each thought made her feel worse than the last. 

“Should we call him?” Maggie asked. 

“Nah, let’s let him sleep in.” Mel suggested. “We haven’t been the only ones busy lately, so if he’s sleeping in a little, that’s okay, he deserves it.” 

“Does he though?” Macy asked, and when her sisters looked at her quizzically, she added. “Sleep in, I mean. Not the deserving it part. Cause obviously he does. Deserve it.” 

“He slept in when he got old, so it’s not impossible.” Mel answered with a shrug. 

“But it _is_ unlikely. Right?” Macy argued, then decided to at least let her sisters in on a few of her own suspicions because admittedly, she needed the help before making anything worse. “I actually think he's depressed.” 

“What makes you say that?” Mel asked. 

“Just a hunch. When I went to his place to use the shower—” 

“Oh my god, what was his place even like!” Maggie interrupted. “Sorry. So not important right now, but I’ve always been crazy curious, and he’s never exactly invited _me_ over, so I’ll probably never get the deets anywhere else.” 

“It’s very _him._ " Macy answered with a half-smile. “Lots of books, tea; very teacher-like. But—I don’t know. It felt sad. I’m not really sure how else to describe it.” 

“Sad? Sad how?” Mel asked with a frown. 

“His bed was made.” Macy offered, the answer feeling lame as soon as she’d said it. 

“Well, if he’s sleeping in the attic that would explain that.” Maggie said. 

“But I don’t think he is.” 

“He could just like a fresh made bed.” Mel pointed out. “You do.” 

“I know that.” Macy answered, unable to express how it was the _way_ that the bed was made that gave her the impression of avoidance. The sheets were pulled too tight, the blankets too perfect. The pillows too orderly. “And there was the armchair. It looked slept in; with a blanket and all.” 

“Could get cold in the condo.” Mel argued. 

“I like to read under a blanket.” Maggie agreed. 

“And the music he was listening to.” Macy stated fast, feeling she was losing their confidence in the matter. “It was sad. _Too_ sad. And when I got out of the bathroom, I’m positive he was crying.” 

Mel and Maggie shared a glance at that, and a concerned frown. Mel nodded then and leaned forward. 

“Okay, well you probably should have led with that. Maybe he _is_ depressed. But we can’t just go prodding at him and making things worse. Right? Especially if we don’t know what’s got him down.” 

“Do you think we’re working him too hard?” Macy’s gut told her otherwise, but she wanted to hear what her sisters thought on the matter, part of her hoping they would think that the culprit. 

“Could be.” Mel said. “But I don’t think that’s it. He _loves_ being a Whitelighter and everything that comes with it. If anything, I think he’s _happ_ _ier_ with all the work.” 

“He’s obviously still heartbroken.” Maggie stated with a sigh, giving breath to Macy’s fear. “We’ve all be tip-toeing around the name for months, but the look on his face when I said something about Charity the other day...” 

She didn’t need to say anymore. They’d all seen it. They’d all felt it. 

“Not much we can do about that though.” Mel’s defeated tone told its own story of heartache, but at least of the four of them, hers seemed to have the most potential for an eventual happy ending. 

“We can’t.” Maggie agreed. “But we can at least let him know that he isn’t in it alone.”  

Macy’s heart grew hopeful as her sister’s words echoed her own from the night before. Maybe she hadn’t said the wrong thing afterall. 

“He’s still got us.” Maggie continued. “And—oh! Oh, oh, oh I’ve got it!” A grin grew across her face. “We need a girl’s night.” 

“How’s that going to help _Harry_?” Macy asked. 

“Well he’ll be one of the girls, obviously.” She rolled her eyes and grinned, as if that were the clearest answer in the world. “He is an honorary member of the Sisterhood, remember? Think about it. No demons, no working, just three sisters, their Whitelighter, some wine, some romcoms, and a whole lot of tissues and working through our ridiculously complicated love lives, or lack thereof, in _most_ of our cases.” Maggie gave Mel a pointed stare and an eyebrow wiggle on the last part. 

“It’s not like that.” Mel argued, her cheeks growing hot because she had to know somewhere deep down that her sisters were aware of her occasional stalking tendencies. “I haven’t talked to Niko in months. We’re not a _thing_ , and we can’t—” 

“Nuh-uh sister.” Maggie interrupted. “You bottle that up and save it for girl’s night. This Friday. No excuses. Be ready.” 

Breakfast broke on a lighter note than when it had started, and Maggie assured both Mel and Macy that she would take care of inviting Harry whenever he turned back up at the house, her own schedule light anyway away from the ridiculous amounts of homework she had. 

Macy was hopeful that this would work, but she also knew waiting until Friday was far too long to ascertain certain things. She had to talk to Harry sooner than that, at least to make sure that he wasn’t mad at, or trying to avoid her. And maybe Mel was right, maybe he _was_ just sleeping in.  

In an effort to keep her mind off of things and stop fretting over how upset the Whitelighter may or may not have been, Macy spread herself across every project in the lab that morning. She double checked data, sanitized equipment, ran tests, filled out forms in triplicate, and scheduled some time with the interim Lab Manager who was filling in until the university could find a replacement for Dr. Wagner. 

By the time lunch rolled around Macy had completely lost track of the time until her stomach rumbled when she leaned back from her microscope to stretch. She grimaced. Right. That'd be the breakfast she had skipped. 

Having not packed anything either, she decided to swing by the cafeteria for something small and then check Harry's office to see if maybe he’d come in today. That wouldn’t seem too unusual on her part, and it would give her a chance to suss out how upset he was, if he _was_ in. And, just in case she _did_ find him there, Macy grabbed an extra sandwich and water so her excuse to swing by didn’t seem too personal. 

When she got to his office she paused and took a deep breath, not quite sure what she wanted to find on the other side of the door. Him, she decided after half a heartbeat. Finding him there would be the closest thing to normal. She hoped he’d be at his desk, bent over something or another and hard at work with some brilliant excuse as to why he forgot about breakfast. 

Holding onto that hope, she knocked lightly. A few seconds passed. Then a few more. But there was no answer. She frowned but wasn’t ready to give up just yet, knocking once more, this time with a little more gusto. After waiting again and still getting no answer, Macy steeled herself and opened the door, preparing for the view of a cold and empty office. 

But he was there. Just... not exactly working. 

Harry was hunched over his desk alright; arms folded and head resting against them. The Whitelighter was fast asleep, wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night before, his hair mussed and falling across his forehead. The sight brought a smile to her face, both out of relief and the fact that he was kind of adorable like that. Macy let herself in and shut the door quietly behind her, then went to his desk. She set the lunch down on the corner, then reached out and gently shook his shoulder. 

“Harry?” 

He jumped with a start, wide-eyed and confused. 

“How—what was I—” he fumbled for words until he seemed to realize at last where he was, with whom, and—after his eyes flickered to the clock on the wall—what time it was. “Oh. Oh dear.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence as their eyes met, but Macy pushed through it with a smile, her eyebrows arched with concern. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

He nodded, then looked distraught. 

“I missed breakfast.” 

“It’s okay.” She assured him with a laugh. “We’re grown women, Harry. If we can’t feed ourselves every now and then we’ve got bigger issues than demons to worry about.” 

“Still.” He ran a hand back through his hair in a way she’d never seen, or at least had never _noticed_ before, and she found that she enjoyed the gesture even if it did clear the hair from off his forehead. “You have my sincerest apologies, Macy. And your tincture!” He made a fist of annoyance and shook his head. “I’d meant to bring it to you first thing this morning.” 

“My—? 

“ _And_ your tea.” He added, looking miserable. 

“Well, I’m here now.” She offered, hoping that would reassure him. “If you brought them with?” 

“I didn’t. But I could pop by the condo to grab them if you’d like! It wouldn’t take but a second.” 

“Oh. Okay, sure. But, how about after lunch? I brought you a sandwich from the cafeteria. If you’re up for eating together, that is.” 

She hoped the invitation sounded as neutral as possible. Her own stomach was fluttering a little, though admittedly that might have been from the hunger rather than the fact that she was possibly about to have a meal alone with him for the first time since—well, _ever_ _,_ and she did not want to screw anything up. 

He glanced from her to the paper bag on his desk, his features softening a little before he too smiled. 

“That’s very kind of you, Macy. I’d be honoured.” 

As they sat together and ate, she kept the conversation light and jovial. They chatted about Mel’s replacement and how he liked working with her; not much, apparently. They considered who the university might hire to fill the role of Lab Manager, both of them hoping the new Doctor had less demonic relations than the last despite the assistance it had ended up providing. They discussed the lovely weather they’d been having and what events would be held on the quad this fall. And at last they touched on how chaotic everything has been since the sisters took over as the new Elders. 

“I may have a solution for that very soon.” Harry promised as he wadded his napkin and sandwich wrapper up. “But I’d like to be certain before I present the idea to you and your sisters. No reason to get hopes up prematurely. Certainly not if I’m unable to deliver.” 

“That seems fair. Speaking of my sisters though, did you get a chance to talk to Maggie at all yet today?” 

Harry shook his head, abashed once again. 

“I truly slept through the entire morning like an utter layabout.” 

Macy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at his look of heartfelt shame, ridiculously relieved that he seemed to be okay with her and truly just exhausted. She knew the depression was still there, hiding beneath the surface, but she was happy to know she hadn’t pushed him away or made things awkward between them. He smiled at her laughter, the expression making her stomach flutter again. 

“It’s fine Harry.” She said, ignoring the sensation. “You might be a Whitelighter, but you _are_ still human too you know. Sometimes we just need a little extra sleep, _especially_ if we’re staying up all night researching.” 

“I know.” He admitted, the smile lingering. “But it’s still an embarrassment. I’ve never been this poor at time management.” 

“There’s no rush you know. On whatever it is you’re working on. I mean we appreciate everything you’re doing, but don’t run yourself ragged on our account. We’ve got all the time in the world.” 

He shook his head. 

“Time is the very issue I seek to address.” He sighed, seemingly torn on whether to talk further about it or not, but then he leaned forward against his desk and went on. “I hate seeing you ladies this overworked. The calendar is packed full with appointments six months out for goodness sake! It’s ridiculous. If I’m correct—and please, do keep this between us until I can be certain, if you don’t mind—I may be able to give you three the knowledge needed to create a _new_ Council of Elders.” 

“A new council?” 

“Yes. With a new council in place, one that would defer to you on all larger matters—of course—they could easily accept responsibility for maintaining peace and balance without every man, woman and creature coming to you personally for judgement or assistance. It would free up a considerable amount of your schedules. Let you all reach some level of normalcy again.” 

“Harry, that would be amazing!” She was stunned by the prospect of them getting more time to themselves. “Is that what you’ve been doing over these last weeks? What you’ve been so busy with?” 

“Yes. I wanted it to be a surprise, but only if I could successfully find the means.” 

“I won’t say a word.” She promised, then added with a warm smile. “You’re the absolute best. Thank you.” 

A blush crept up his neck at her compliment, but he shook his head and waved it off. 

“You needn’t thank me for anything Macy. It’s my job as a Whitelighter to guide you ladies to the best of my ability and aid you in any way I can.” 

“Still—” she tried again, only for him to hold up his hand and hold her stare. 

“No.” He said gently, laying his hand back down but keeping her eyes engaged. The room seemed to get ten degrees warmer. “It’s my greatest pleasure.” He stated plainly then, and Macy swallowed at the genuine confession, something about the way in which he said it heating her face. 

There was a sudden tension between them, but it lasted no more than a couple seconds. Harry leaned back and cleared his throat, eyes darting to the clock on the wall behind her. 

“Do you need to get back to the lab?” He asked, his question immediately cooling the temperature in both the room and her cheeks. 

“Oh.” She said, swallowing again and forcing a smile. “Yeah. Um.” She stood, then quickly collected the trash from the table. “Thanks for sharing lunch with me.” 

“Thank you for bringing it.” 

Macy grinned, then stooped to grab her bag and shoulder it before dropping their trash in the bin beside his desk. 

“See you later, Harry.” She bid him, turning for the door. 

“Macy.” He called out, and she looked back over her shoulder at him. 

“Hmm?” 

“You mentioned if I’d spoken to Maggie.” He lifted his brows in question, waiting for her to fill in an explanation. 

“Oh. Right. She wants to talk to you, that’s all.” 

“Is everything alright?” He straightened a little and looked ready to orb in the next few seconds. 

“Everything’s fine.” She reassured him. “She just had a question about some plans she’d like to make for Friday. For all of us. No hurry.” 

He nodded. 

“I’ll finish the day here and then come by this evening. With your potion and tea.” 

They shared a last smile, then Macy turned and headed back for the lab. She still wasn’t sure how he felt about her in particular, but at least she knew he wasn’t upset. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if anyone is interested in a Harry POV too. I've been considering it but I'm not totally sold on the idea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

When Macy stepped through the front door of her home it was to the heavy smell of fresh garlic and onion , raw and heady but promising something delicious  in the near future . She took a deep breath in , always one to  enjoy the aroma  of freshly chopped vegetables and herbs , then hung her things and headed into the kitchen to find out who was making them, although she did already have  some  inkling. 

Rounding the corner, she spotted Harry at the kitchen island, chopping a board full of vegetables with a faint smile on his face as he focused on the task.  H e looked up as soon as she stepped forward, and his smile widened into something warmer , his hands stilling.

“Macy,  we l come  home.” He called out.

“Thank s . What’s going on?” She waved a hand to all the  prep work .

“Merely making up for this morning’s absence. You ladies ought to have at least one good meal a day , and I’d wager  that cafeteria—and surely the bar as well—are not exactly known for fulfilling nutritional needs.”

Macy laughed and joined him at the island, leaning forward as he finished  julienning  carrots.

“Well it isn’t needed, but it  _ is _  very much appreciated.”

“Did the rest of your day go well?” He asked, and for a  sharp second  she was struck by how domestic this all felt, the sensation pulling at her heart , almost  making her wish every day could be like this —no demons, no witchcraft, just work at the lab and coming home to somebody who cared.

Her throat constricted a little, but she swallowed it down.

“Yeah. Thanks. I mean, it was fine. Boring even. Filed some paperwork; had to putz around with the  Thermobrite  again because of course it’s on the fritz ,  and of course there’s no funds left in the budget to replace it this year. Or so I’m told anyway.”

Harry huffed and shook his head.

“Let’s not even get on the subject of budgets and that penny-pinching Board of Directors who would rather throw money at the basketball team’s equipment then to upgrade a fifty-year-old blackboard to a whiteboard at long last. Utterly ridiculous. You’d think there would be money  simply  flowing into the universities what with them teaching the youth of today how to better run the world of tomorrow but no, seemingly  _ not. _ __ Sports wins out every time;  _ hoorah _ . "  The sarcasm dripped from his last words.

Macy grinned.

“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about chalkboards.  Or sports. ”

“I—well I don’t; not particularly at least . B ut I really have put a request  in to  upgrade for the last two years and each time it’s the same. No money available. And yet, there’s Coach Finch, parading around new jerseys and fresh basketballs every chance he can as if the rest of us aren’t recycling last year's pencils and hoping for an ounce of funding.”

“Finch is an ass.” Macy agreed, having been annoyed herself by the pompous coach and his high-and-mighty attitude on more than one occasion .

The basketball team wasn’t even any good, which was probably the worst part of it all.  No, wait. The worst part, Macy decided, was when Finch tried to corner her in the hall and ask her out on a date.  _ Aggressively _ , ask her out. Yeah, no thank you on that one.

“He truly is.”

“Oh hey, did you talk to Maggie yet?” Macy couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about a girl’s night  in that would include him .

Harry shook his head, pushing the carrots off to the side and switching to julienning the zucchini next .

“She wasn’t home when I arrived, but t here is  a note.” He pointed to the fridge where a pink post-it hung.

Macy frowned and went to it, reading out loud.

“Kappa S.O.S. !  B.B.S. Don’t let H leave  til  I get back !  T.T.Y. S . XOXO”

“Are you sure everything ’s alright ?” Harry asked, concern etched across his features .

Macy guessed it was because he didn’t understand all the acronyms.

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong.” Macy assured him. “Sounds like she’ll be back soon . S he’s  just  really excited about making plans for Friday, so she wants to make sure you stay until she gets home.” 

“I won’t go anywhere.” He promised.

“We don’t have anything on the calendar already, do we? ” Macy asked, suddenly worried. “ For Friday?”

“I cleared the day after our conversation over lunch, and left much of Saturday morning vacant as well, just in case Maggie’s agenda includes imbibing of any kind.”

“Oh, and I’m sure it will.” Macy said with a  relieved  laugh, knowing full well that her sisters  c ould manage to polish off more than a bottle of wine if given half the chance. 

“I’m inclined to agree with you there. Oh!” He pointed to the far end of the counter. “Your tea and potion, as promised.”

Macy walked over to the counter and smiled down at the two items. The potion was in a small glass bottle, the lid doubling as an eyedropper, and the tea was in a s ea l ed bamboo  box, a  tiny  latch holding it closed. She picked up the potion first , the glass cool against her skin as she  looked over her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.  Now, t wo drops on the tongue just before bed ought to do it, but do  _ not  _ take more than that. This potion has a nasty habit of doing the exact opposite of what you’d like it to should the dosage s  be too high.  Two drops, no more. ”

“ Just before bed.” Macy finished with a nod of understanding. “Got it. ”

After putting the tea in the pantry, Macy cradled the potion in her palm and turned to leave the kitchen.

“Hey, ” she called out to Harry. “ I’ll be back down in a bit.  G oing to clean up before the others get  back . We have another appointment tonight too, right? With that warlock from up north?  Stan? Stew? ”

“ Sam, and yes . He should arrive a round  seven, which gives us more than enough time for dinner  and to get a kettle on after .”

Before long Mel was home —though from the bar or another innocent bout of stalking, it was hard to tell— and Maggie was back from her Kappa emergency,  likely picked up by her sister,  both  women  just in time for Harry’s meal to  come out of the oven . The house was filled with savory aromas , and the two sisters couldn’t help but breath deep as they peeled off their jackets to hang them by the door. Macy stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against the banister with a smile.

“Hey.” She said when they noticed her.

“That smells ridiculously good. Did you—?”

“Harry.” Macy answered before Mel could even finish. “To make up for missing breakfast.”

Maggie and Mel both rolled their eyes, but they were grinning regardless, their fondness for the  Whitelighter apparent . It made Macy hopeful that he knew how much they all cared for him. The three sisters entered the kitchen together to find Harry setting the table, and with only a little fuss they convinced him to move over so that they could finish the task. He  had done all the  _ hard  _ work after all.

Dinner turned out to be amazing, and Macy couldn’t help but feel some of the tightness and anxiety in her chest loosen a little as they all sat around the table joking and laughing and talking about the world. Even the lines wearing along the edges of Harry’s eyes seemed to ease just a hair, and the pain that lurked behind them was nowhere to be seen, at least not for the hour they sat there eating. 

Yeah, they needed more of this. Macy wanted more time alone with him, but she also knew that he’d need all of them to truly heal after everything with Fiona and Charity. He needed to know he was part of a family that would  _ never _  betray him, no matter what, a family that would literally drag him out of any Hell—figuratively and literally—if need be. Maggie’s idea for Friday suddenly didn’t seem absurd at all; maybe the young witch’s decision to major in psychology  _ was  _ a good idea.

Macy smiled down at her plate though as she considered that maybe... maybe she’d make having lunch with Harry alone a habit going forward. Breakfast or dinner could be for all of them, but she would make lunch something different. Something just for them so that she could figure out where exactly his heart stood with her  and how exactly she felt about it . 

Her smile faded as she recalled having lunches with Galvin and her heart clenched at the memories. His warm hand touching the small of her back as they walked. The smell of his cologne. His low chuckle that could send a swirl of warmth from her stomach straight down to  places only he had ever explored . The feelings burned in her throat for a moment, sadness laced with guilt, and once again she was ashamed at her desire to pursue the Whitelighter. There had to be something wrong with her if she could—

“So!” Maggie exclaimed, clapping her hands together and startling Macy out of her downward spiral. “Harry. This Friday I want us to have a thing. A n awesome thing. A  party, but like, just an  _ us _  party, so not really a party but more like a— like  a—”

“A  magical  sleepover ? ” Mel filled in with a wry smile.

“Yes! But not quite.” Maggie continued , unbothered by her sister’s lack of enthusiasm . “ Magic maybe, but w e are so not building  a pillow fort and giggling over hot chocolate.”

Mel lifted an eyebrow.

“Okay so maybe there  _ will  _ be hot chocolate, but only  ‘cause  Kahlua was totes on sale and I just bought  like  four bottles.” Maggie added with a grin. “But, my sweet sorority sisters—and our honorary brother in arms , _ of course _ —we will be watching sappy movies, braiding hair, painting nails—”

“Sharpening knives. Taking shots.  Learning counter-curses. ” Mel added to the list, clearly not entirely keen on the too-girly — even for  _ girls _ — kind of night.

“—drowning in wine and chocolate,” Maggie went on as if her sister hadn’t spoken, “and talking about our  _ feelings _  while we get drunk and possibly even pull out Mel’s old yearbook so we can hear her harp over how hot Luella Brooks was and how utterly unfair the gods were by making her fall in love with muscle-head Nick Bowers  Freshman year .”

Clearly Maggie  _ had  _ noticed the lack of enthusiasm on her sister’s part. Mel’s mouth opened in shock, then closed again as her face set with indignation and her eyes narrowed.

“Or we could pull out  _ your  _ yearbook and read through the  _ how many _  love notes written in the back by all the guys you had wrapped around your little finger, plus the little bits of poetry you tucked away next to some of their senior pics?”

Maggie grinned and shrugged, looking quite pleased with herself.

“I’m okay with that. Mace, you got your yearbook  packed up somewhere ?”

Macy’s eyes widened. She did, but she was  definitely  not telling them that. Instead she smiled and shook her head.

“I was never into the whole getting my yearbook signed thing.”

“Neither was Mel.” Maggie said. “But mom made her get one anyways and I’ve totally caught her still looking  at  it over the years . S he’s glad she got  one .”

“ It’s called being nostalgic. ”  Mel refuted.

“Otherwise known as getting the full names of old crushes to creep them online?” Maggie offered back with a wide and not at all innocent smile.

“It sounds like you ladies will have a wonderful evening.” Harry stated w ith an expression of fondness , interrupting the playful argument. “But this doesn’t  quite  sound like the sort of thing — ”

“Nope!” Maggie cut him off and raised her hand. “There will be no excuses Har. We need this, and the only way it’ll be perfect is with you there too. This is like, one of those non-optional sorority get-togethers.”

“Sounds like something  more sisterly .” He argued back, gently.

For a moment Macy worried he’d manage to back out of it, but she clearly didn’t know the lengths that Maggie would go through to get what she wanted. Her sister crossed her arms and leaned forward.

“Well, in that case it’s totally a Charmed Ones thing, and as an official Charmed Ones ™ gathering, our  Whitelighter  has to be there to guide us appropriately.” She paused for dramatic effect. “You would never abandon us in our greatest emotional hours of need, would you?”

Maggie then threw her wide-eyed doe-in-the-headlights stare at Harry, her large brown eyes the most effective weapon ever at tugging at even the firmest of heartstrings. Macy could see their  Whitelighter’s  resolve crumble in an instant, his features softening before he nodded.

“Very well. I will of course, now and always, do my duty.” He answered, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Woo!” Maggie cheered, clapping her hands, and almost like she had power over them as well, both Mel and Macy clapped along too, partly because they’d won Harry over to the plan, and partly because Friday was starting to sound a little fun. “Then it’s totally settled. Friday night. Eight  sharp . We meet in the living room and we  _ each _  pick a movie to watch. Romcoms only. Either from the shelf, or you bring one with. Got it?”

She swept her gaze across the table, and instantly Macy froze. She had to pick a  movie?  For everyone?  But  what—?

“That gives you almost three days to think about it.” Maggie went on. “So, pick something good, and it  _ has _  to fulfil romcom requirements.”

“And what are those exactly?” Mel asked dryly, making Macy feel a little better about the whole thing because surely Melanie Vera did  _ not _  subscribe to that sort of entertainment any more than she did.

Did she even  _ know _  any romcoms?

Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Okay, okay. So, rule one of romcoms: there  has to  be romance. Obviously. Two girls, two guys, girl and a guy, two girls and a guy; doesn’t matter just so long as there’s gooey good feelings that have a  _ happy _  ending. Emphasis on the happy,  _ Mel _ .”

“No Romeo and Juliet then.” Harry asked, though it sounded more like a statement of understanding as well.

“Definitely not.” Maggie agreed. “Which brings us to romcom rule number two: there has to be comedy. No straight romances, no tragedies, no horrors – it  has to  be make-me-laugh funny or it doesn’t qualify.”

“You think  _ every _  romcom is funny.” Mel said with a smirk.

“Then you’ll have an easy time pleasing me. Won’t you?” Maggie grinned back, then shared her stare between Macy and Harry. “If you two don’t know of anything off the top of your head, you can either look it up online, or just pick something random from the stack I’ll have set out on Friday.  So,  like, don’t freak out, there’s plenty of options and they’re all amazing.”

And before anyone could say anything more to the subject of Friday, the doorbell rang. It was seven o’clock exactly.

“That’ll be our warlock.” Macy said, glancing toward the direction of the door.

“I’ll put the kettle on.” Harry offered while standing, picking up his plate, along with Macy’s and a few other dishes near to him.

“I’ll help clear the table.” Maggie stood as well, already doing just that.

“Then we can go greet out next appointment.” Mel said, standing and meeting Macy's eyes.

And just like that the group of them broke apart, plans for the week’s end set into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And sorry not a whole lot happened. Between the full time job and part time school my brain is a little fried, AND I have another fic begging to see the light, but I'm not abandoning this one. It's just slow moving because I'm not all that great at romance so I'm trying to pace it well and keep it believable.
> 
> Next chapter should be Friday night though (theirs, lol, not mine), and I think it might also be from either Harry's POV alone, or shared between Macy and Harry, with each getting half. I won't really know until I start writing it however, so no promises on anything.
> 
> Hope this chapter was okay!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl's night featuring fun, angst, and some minor spoilers for the following movies: 10 Things I Hate About you, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, The Princess Bride, and Earth Girls Are Easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, there are a few spoilers for the movies listed in the summary. If that's a huge problem please let me know and I can adjust a little so that the spoilers are less.... spoilery.
> 
> Also, I feel like I wrote this chapter during two different moods, so I hope that isn't too terribly noticeable. And I was in such a rush to publish that I didn't really edit much, so apologies in advance for any errors or OOC moments.
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy!

The meeting with Sam the warlock went well, though he did bring troubling news that the committee of reformed warlocks weren’t very happy with the lacking Council of Elders to protect them from the unreformed ones. They skirted around this issue for the most part, but did promise things would be fine, that they were handling all Elder duties, and that they could also take care of the wayward witch who had cursed him after he refused her affections.

“Omigod, can we _please_ bring her here for like, a stern talking to?” Maggie asked after they shut the door. “Cause I totally picture us sitting at the table, all of us on one end _obviously_ , her on the other, totally rocking out with some serious Judge Judy vibes.”

Mel grinned.

“I could get behind that.”

On early Wednesday morning though, before the sisters could even discuss how best to find the deviant witch and punish her, there was a demon attack to contend with. This cut breakfast short to toast only, the group of them leaving fast to investigate the crime scene before too many college students, staff and law enforcement could muddy the scene or inadvertently destroy evidence.

There were two dead, a young freshman couple, both unrecognizable from the neck down.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Maggie said faintly as they stared down at the bodies, a hand on her stomach and no doubt wishing she’d skipped the toast altogether.

Mel’s hand was held in the air, pausing time for them to investigate, and Macy knelt beside the remains with a frown.

“They look...” She really didn’t want to say the word, but when she did, they all four of them said it at the same time.

“Melted.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

With great care, she reached out with a glass stirring rod to prod the exterior of the first body, the wet and fleshy mass barely discernable as human were it not for the unblemished head still tethered to it by way of spine. The glass pushed easily through and Macy stifled a gag at the sensation. She pulled the rod back and examined it, then frowned and reached into her purse. She pulled out an empty, stoppered beaker.

“Hurry.” Mel called out. “The perimeter is too wide to keep this safely going for much longer.”

“I am.” Macy answered, reaching down with the beaker and rod to collect some of the corroded muscle and the strange residue coating it. “Done.”

She stood and stoppered the tube again, then she and the others backed a safe distance from the scene before Mel released her hold on time. The world sprang to life in an instant, the flash of police lights bathing the campus in blues and reds while the campus security team directed gasping and gossiping students away from the crime scene so that the professionals could do their work. The sisters and their Whitelighter exchanged glances.

“I’ll test this at the lab as soon as I’m in; see what I can find.”

“I’ll head home again and look through the book. There can’t possibly be that many flesh melting demons with a distaste for brain.”

“Hundreds.” Harry answered, and Mel rolled her eyes.

“Of course there are.”

“I’ve got class.” Maggie said. “But I can always skip and come help look?”

“No.” Mel shook her head. “You aren’t skipping anymore classes. We talked about this. If I need help, I’ll call Harry, but I don’t have a shift until late tonight, so I have plenty of time to do reading.”

“I have a few additional books in my personal collection that may be of assistance.” Harry added. “I’ll leave them in the attic for you, and if you need my help—”

“I’ll call.”

The group of them broke apart, each going their separate ways, and by lunch Macy had identified the demonic bile as a sort of hydrochloric acid. It ate through several materials she’d tested and continued to finish its work on the meat in the sample she’d collected. The smell was awful, and she was glad for the lack of management that day because she honestly wasn’t sure what project she’d say this was part of. As she cut off a sliver of the remaining sample for testing, she wondered if making a few ruse experiments, or at least the documentation for them, could save her from some of this worry in the future.

After she put the sample in a fresh test tube, her hands began prepping chemicals to work on a neutralizing agent as her brain considered the documentation she might need and which pages would best be left blank, when a soft knock on her desk jolted her up and away from the beakers she’d been hunched over.

She looked up to find Harry standing there, an apprehensive smile on his face as he caught her surprised expression.

“Apologies.” He said swiftly before lifting a brown paper bag. “I worried you might be too focused on the task at hand and thought I’d simply return the favour from before. Brought you a spot of lunch."

Macy smiled, her stomach suddenly very aware of its own emptiness and a few passing butterflies.

“No need to apologize. You just startled me is all. I get in the zone,” she explained, waving a hand to indicate the mess across her desk, “and I kind of lose track of everything else that _isn’t_ the job.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having focus.” Harry assured her as he held out the back. “I’m afraid this isn’t much, however; a sandwich from the cafeteria, but hopefully enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon.”

“Thank you.” Macy said sincerely, taking the bag from him before asking, “did you eat already?”

She wanted to eat with him again, his presence a nice balm after a long morning of watching muscle and fat from an innocent student slowly waste away under the remnants of demonic acid. It was easy to separate the person from the remains most of the time, but every so often the flash of a horror-struck expression would light up inside her mind, attaching the bits of flesh to the student they’d once been and leaving a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach. These were dead people, not just samples.

“I did. Yes.” Harry answered with another apology resting across his features. “I wasn’t sure if—that’s to say, I knew you’d be—” he paused, the struggle for just the right words warring between his pinched brows. “I didn’t wish to presume.”

Macy could help but smile, at both the fact that he’d thought about her and the fact that he hadn’t wanted to disturb her work. Then again—her smile faltered—what if his worry had been that she wouldn’t want to eat with him? That was a concern she’d need to wipe away immediately if that was the case. On the off chance that it was, she pointed to one of the rolling chairs nearby.

“Why don’t you grab a seat and relax with me while I eat? I can,” she hesitated, wondering if she’d even need to add a reason for him to stay before deciding to, just in case, “tell you what I’ve found so far.”

He seemed unsure of how to answer for a second, but then he nodded.

“Certainly. Perhaps I can glean some insight into which demon it might be.”

He grabbed the chair and rolled it closer, and as Macy ate she went over her findings, Harry’s company and kindness keeping the flashes of horror far from her mind. Her information, along with what Mel found, did help Harry ascertain what they were up again.

That evening the Charmed Ones and their Whitelighter went after the demon, a creature that the Book of Shadows called a _Noxium Daemonium_ , a creature that could take form as either a solid, liquid or gas. It devoured the living one dissolving layer at a time, and they all knew it had to be stopped before it could kill again.

After casting a spell that could help them detect its unique chemical composition, they had it cornered in the library, stopping it just before another attack. The sound of a student screaming as she escaped the looming green cloud was muted by the dozens of bookshelves as she fled the room in a panic.

“I’ll handle her.” Harry called out before giving chase, her memory getting wiped just as critical as the demon they had to defeat.

Mel raised her hand to freeze the demon in place and pulled out a shred of paper that had their vanquishing spell scribbled out, but as the entity froze, a piece of it broke away from the main body. A small cloud swooped forward and engulfed Mel’s hand, burning the paper and scalding her skin with its acidic touch.

“Mel!” Both Macy and Maggie screamed as their sister howled in pain and waved her second hand, pulling it from the secondary cloud and freezing it in time all at once.

“I’m fine!” She snapped, her skin already blistering. “But what now?”

Macy dug in her bag for the box of baking soda she’d nabbed from the house as a failsafe, just in case the spell went awry, and now she was glad for her constant second-guessing. As she poured a heap into her palm, the larger cloud of toxic mist shivered, fighting against Mel’s hold.

“Hurry!”

“Maggie—” Macy called out to ask for her sister’s hand as well, the palm held out before she could finish asking for it, and she started to pour.

They both lifted their arms to hurl the powder, but before they could let it loose, the larger mass of mist quivered again, then dropped to the floor, forming a pool. A splash of acid streaking across the bookshelf and straight onto Maggie’s right leg. Books hissed and smoked as the youngest Charmed one shrieked and stumbled back a step, but not before managing to throw her handful of powder. Macy threw her portion as well while Mel held the liquid demon in place again, and the three sisters watched as the greenish puddle began to boil with fizzing white bubbles, a frothing foam forming across its surface.

Macy poured another handful, but this time she blew it into the orb of mist hanging midair.

“My leg!” Maggie hissed, the sound of books toppling off the shelf drawing her sisters’ gazes as she stumbled back and caught herself on the furniture.

Macy felt her heart skip a beat at the sight. It was worse than Mel’s injury. Maggie’s pant leg had melted away, the material curled and burning along the edges as the skin underneath glistened raw and red, the flesh bubbling in places while the smell of burning hair, meat, paper and chemicals filled the air. Mel took a step closer, keeping her hand up to hold the demon in place as it sizzled and sputtered, her injured limb quivering as she held it high, making sure the gaseous portion stayed just as still as the liquid.

“Harry!” Macy called out.

The Whitelighter appeared immediately, first facing her and the demon before turning once he noticed where she was staring. As soon as he spotted Maggie he knelt before her, one hand on her knee, just above the scorched edges of her pants while the other hovered over her injury.

“It burns so bad.” She groaned with a wince, one of her hands gripping Harry’s shoulder.

“Almost got it.” The Whitelighter promised, a white glow forming between her skin and his palm as he slowly swept his hand downward along her calf.

True to his word, her skin healed over. The demonic bubble to their right gave a final gurgle as it choked on the foam eating away at it, the cloud dripping globs of white froth to the floor as is died as well. Mel lowered her hands and Maggie her leg as Harry stood and Macy turned back to face their defeated foe. The stain it left was drying fast, the carpet below where it sat still smoking along the edges as the wood beneath sat black and charred.

“Friday can so not come fast enough.” Maggie groused, and Mel laughed, then winced, holding her hand out to finally give it a good once over.

“You’re just angry that a demon finally got you to visit the library.” She teased, Harry nearing her as soon as he caught sight of her injury as well.

Macy grinned at the playful jab, knowing everything was okay if her sister was joking, and once Maggie mirrored the expression, Harry allowed himself to do the same while he healed Melanie’s burnt hand.

They cleaned up the area by way of magic and some good old-fashioned elbow grease, and then it was back to the house for some much-needed rest.

Thursday came and went without any issues, though Harry was unavailable for lunch—as he made sure to casually mention over breakfast—and before long Friday was there at last. Macy managed to sneak away from the lab to bring Harry something from the cafeteria again, the pair of them eating and chatting amicably about nothing important until the last few minutes of their break.

“So, have you picked out a movie yet?” Macy asked, her own failure to do so making her nervous about the evening to come despite Maggie’s assurance that there would be plenty to pick ‘from the stack.’

“I have not, I’m afraid.” Harry confessed. “I never was one for movies, though I’ll gladly take a bracing radio drama any day.”

“A radio drama?” Macy asked with a laugh. “Like, War of the Worlds kind of stuff?”

“Oh yes.” Harry’s features lit with excitement. “That is simply one of many. Well worth a listen in its own right, but for my money it doesn’t get better than Dick Barton, Special Agent. I can still hear his galloping theme song to this day, his many adventures more thrilling than any of the old hullabaloo on today’s many screens.”

“I’ll have to look it up sometime. Do they even air them anymore?”

“On certain stations, yes. But not near as frequently as they once did.”

“Did you always like them or was that something from—” Macy caught herself, but too late, and for a moment the joyful mood wavered, then tipped into melancholy as Harry’s smile slipped.

“Tartarus.” He answered her unfinished question. “One of many memories that I thought I didn’t want, but now I’m glad for them.”

There was a long stretch of quiet and Macy didn't dare speak, willing him to go on because she really did want to know him better, and this was one conversation that none of the sisters had ever risked having. His time in Hell, and Charity (unless absolutely necessary), were forbidden topics so far as they were concerned, so having him bring it up on his own volition was something Macy would hold her breath for, and so she did.

“Before Carter was born—” he hesitated as emotion choked his words. “Clara and I enjoyed them very much, and once we had our son, he loved them as well. The action, the adventure; Dick Barton was before his time, but he loved the same variety. The memories are bittersweet, but still treasured.”

“Maybe,” Macy started, pausing for a heartbeat when Harry’s eyes rose to meet with hers. “Maybe we can listen to one together some time. I’m sure we can find all your old favorites online somewhere.”

She hoped it wasn’t an offer too intimate given what he’d revealed, so when his lips lifted at the corner ever so slightly, she felt her muscles lose some tension.

“I would like that very much.” He said. “In the meantime, I suspect I shall have to choose from one of Maggie’s films at random.”

“Don’t feel bad. I’ll be doing the same. Romcoms aren’t exactly my favorite type of movie. In fact, they’re usually a pretty toxic representation of relationships all around, not that I can really talk. Heaven’s Vice has a lot of unhealthy tropes and I adore it anyway.”

“Perhaps the wine will make them more enjoyable.” Harry teased, and Macy laughed.

“Let’s hope.”

The lunch break ended after that, and as Macy finished her work, she realized she was more excited by the prospect of listening to a _radio_ _drama_ with Harry than she was about a movie night. She couldn’t help but feel giddy as she considered it, and thoughts of him kept her preoccupied until the interim Lab Manager startled her out of them much later that day.

“Don’t stay too late.” He said, shouldering a laptop bag as he walked by her desk, and that’s when she noticed she was the last one still sitting, everyone else either already gone or nearly so.

“I won’t.” She said before bidding him a goodnight.

When Macy got home half-past-six, it was to the sound of friendly banter in the kitchen and the smell of something savory and delicious. She found her sisters and Harry in there, the Whitelighter and Mel at the table filling large bowls with chips while Maggie tended to a crockpot.

“Hey guys.” Macy called to them before closing in and taking a seat at the table as well. “What’s all this?”

The kitchen table was piled high with movies on one end, some of them set to the side while others sat in tall stacks that didn’t look entirely stable. The other end was covered in open bags of chips, pretzels and other savory treats, along with a variety of large bowls.

“Trying to help Harry here pick out a movie.” Mel said, shooting the man a wry smile.

“And preparing some goodies for this evening.” Added the Whitelighter.

“And _I’m_ making mom’s queso blanco because a party just isn’t a party without homemade dip.”

“That doesn’t sound very vegan.” Macy noted, lifting an eyebrow.

“It’s a close imitation to the original.” Maggie boasted. “Twenty bucks says Mel won’t even taste the difference.”

“You’re on.” Mel agreed. “But I’ll have you know, I am a queso connoisseur; mom didn’t dare touch the recipe ‘cause I could tell in a single bite.”

“So, have you picked one yet?” Macy asked, glancing back toward Harry.

“Not quite.” The Whitelighter answered, staring at the piles of movies with a look of mild distaste.

“I’m still stuck on my own choice.” Mel admitted.

“Better figure it out fast,” Maggie called out, “cause you’re up first and all our snacks will be ready in like, forty. Oh, and don’t forget to change into your jammies! That’s like, a critical part of any girl’s night, so you know, not optional.”

She lifted her arms to showcase the fuzzy pink pajama set she wore, the light fabric covered in a small print of white clouds and fuchsia bunny rabbits hopping between them. She waved them off with the spoon in her hand then.

“I mean it, go change. All of you. I’ll finish up down here.”

Macy and Mel went obligingly upstairs to do so, while Harry orbed back to his own apartment, and thirty-five minutes later the lot of them were in the living room, admiring Maggie’s handywork as the youngest sister finished her set up.

There were pillows strewn all over the floor; where she’d gotten them all from, Macy couldn’t tell, but they were of every shape and variety, some throw pillows and others from beds unknown. There were blankets flung across the back of the couch as well, and the coffee table had been pushed out of the way so that they could easily sit on the floor and stretch their legs out. The coffee table itself was covered in bowls; a few filled with various dips, others with chips or popcorn or layers upon layers of wrapped candies.

Mel and Macy shared a look with one another, impressed at their sister’s efforts before each taking a different spot to sit down. Macy chose the floor to start with, sitting cross-legged with her back against the couch. Harry sat on the far end of the sofa while Mel sat between them, also on the couch, and Maggie took to the floor as well on the other side of Macy.

“Right,” Maggie clapped her hands once then rubbed them together. “What are we starting off with?” She looked up and over to Mel, who looked back, sighed, then stood and moved to the TV.

“I was really torn. It was a tossup between Girltrash and 10 Things I Hate About You, but I didn’t think Harry was ready lesbian musicals just yet, so I went with 10 Things.”

“Oh, I love that movie!” Maggie squealed in delight.

“You love _all_ romantic comedies.” Mel said with a smirk as she rolled her eyes and put the movie in. “This was so my mood throughout high school though. Julia Stiles’ character was the best mentor ever. She just spoke to me.”

Maggie laughed.

“I’m shocked I didn’t connect those dots before. I can _totally_ see where you took after her.”

Macy and Harry glanced at one another and Macy shrugged. She thought the name of the movie sounded familiar, but she’d certainly never seen it.  By the expression on Harry’s face, neither had he. She was glad to not be alone in her cluelessness. Mel came to sit back down, and Maggie popped open their first bottle of wine as the movie began.

“Okay, I can see why you like Kat.” Macy said after they’d been watching for a while. “But seriously how creepy is this premise? Manipulation is _not_ romantic, _at all_.”

“The romance is that he _stopped_ manipulating her and really fell in love.” Maggie argued, then added. “Patrick, I mean.”

“Cameron’s ploy is so gross though.” Macy argued. “He’s not only lying to Bianca, but he legitimately hired a thug—or at least somebody he _thought_ was a thug—to lie to Bianca’s sister just so he can what, get in this girl’s pants because he got lust-at-first-sight and didn’t want to take no for an answer?”

“Well that’s why it’s a romantic _comedy_ ,” Maggie said, defensively. “It’s not like, supposed to be used as a how-to-date handbook or anything. Plus, Bianca is totally using him back.”

“Taming of the Shrew.” Harry said suddenly, waving a hand toward the screen as the sisters looked his way. “That’s what this is a retelling of, I do believe.”

“It is!” Mel said with a grin. “And yeah, these men are all total sleazes, but Kat, Kat makes the movie, and if she’d’ve just—”

“Shh!” Maggie hissed, interrupting her sister. “No spoilers!”

One bottle of wine and a couple bathroom-break-pauses later the credits rolled, and Mel stood to take out the movie.

“So? Har, Mace. What’d you think?”

“It was—” Macy paused, trying to find the right description. “Very 90’s,” she settled with. “But cute. Sort of. In a really this-is-unhealthy-so-please-don't-ever-do-this-for-real kind of way.”

“The music was enjoyable.” Harry commented.

“I _love_ the music.” Mel agreed before going on. “Letter’s to Cleo still has a special place in my heart, even today.”

“I liked the friend and the Shakespeare fan much better than the main characters. _They_ were at least decent for the most part.” Macy chimed in.

“Agreed,” said Harry with a nod.

“Well Har, you’re up next!” Maggie pointed to the stack of movies when he gave her a pleading look. “Plenty to choose from. Just pick one at random; totally okay with literally any of them, so there’s no wrong answer. Promise.”

“If you insist.” Harry answered with heavy sigh before going and making his selection.

After poking around the film pile for several minutes while the sisters nibbled on chips and further discussed the last movie, he finally held one up for all to see. _How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days_. Another film that Macy had never seen before, but she was settling in for that to be a running theme of the night. She wondered if he’d only chosen that one because it had the number ten in it as well.

As she opened another bottle of wine, Harry put the movie in, then settled back on the end of the couch while she filled everyone’s glasses. Maggie sat on the couch now while Mel sat on the floor at her feet, the youngest sister braiding her hair. The standard opening warnings popped up on screen, but suddenly the movie paused, and Maggie spoke.

“Hold up. Best. Idea. Ever. We should totally do a round of shots. Like, after each movie.”

“Why?” Macy asked, not keen on waking with a hangover.

“Why _not_?” Maggie countered.

It took a little more convincing than that to bring the others on board, but after the youngest Charmed One pulled out the doe-eyes and argued her heart out, the rest of them begrudgingly agreed and followed her to the kitchen. She lined up shots of spiced rum, and after they’d all lifted their glasses, she beamed at them, her cheer more than a little contagious.

“To family, friends, and the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood—which yes, includes _you_ ,” she added, staring pointedly at Harry, then she lifted her glass a little higher before finishing with, “Arriba, abajo, al centro y adentro.”

They downed their shots, Macy and Harry sputtering a little from the warm hit to the backs of their throats as Maggie smacked her glass back down to the counter and Mel grinned at them, setting her own shot glass down gently.

“I think you two will be happy for the shot once we get this next movie started.”

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Oh my god, they’re both such awful people!” Macy cried out somewhere in the middle of the film when they paused for another bathroom break, both main character’s antics leaving a bad taste in her mouth as they deceived one another endlessly and used such underhanded tactics to win contests that were quite frankly, ridiculous and ugly.

She couldn’t understand how anyone found this genre charming.

“They really are.” Harry agreed, refilling his wine glass, then Mel’s, Maggie’s and then her own as they polished off the second bottle and opened a third.

“They aren’t _that_ bad.” Maggie argued before taking a sip then going and grabbing another handful of chips, migrating up to the couch between Harry and Macy as Mel snuggled down across the floor between a wall of pillows she'd built up.

“No. They’re bad.” Mel disagreed. “I mean, they pretty much deserve each other, but yeah. Still bad.”

As they finished the third bottle the pauses became more frequent for debates and arguments on the legality of the characters actions, and as the movie came to an end, Mel threw her arm out at the screen and rolled her eyes.

“Chasing him down on the bridge. Seriously? Might as well be a run through the airport to stop the damn plane. So cliché.”

“And you can’t even do the plane thing anymore.” Macy lamented.

“Hey, some tropes are timeless.” Maggie argued, her cheeks flushed, and her shoulders wrapped with one of the throw blankets.

All three sisters sat on the floor now, Harry on the couch behind them. Pillows had migrated as well, most stacked up to either side of them or behind their backs, another blanket thrown across Mel’s lap as she cradled the bowl of dwindling popcorn.

“Not _that_ timeless.” Mel muttered beneath her breath.

When the movie ended at last, Maggie called out, “shots!” before anyone could do anything else.

“I certainly could do with one after that.” Harry muttered beneath his breath, and as Macy caught his eye, he gave an embarrassed smile.

They all marched to the kitchen and lined up, then threw back the shots all at once without as much fanfare as the first time. Macy shuddered after swallowing it down, but with her belly full of wine and her head already swimming, this shot wasn’t nearly as rough as the first. In fact, this one was downright tasty.

She licked her lips, enjoying the sweet aftertaste, and when she glanced over to Harry as he set his glass down, she was certain his eyes had been following her tongue. The thought made her want to melt, but before she could pursue that train of thinking further, Maggie looped her arm through Macy’s and led them all back to the living room.

“My turn to pick now.” Maggie sang with delight before releasing Macy near the couch and heading to the TV. “And get ready girls and boys for,” and she pantomimed an invisible drum roll, “The Princess Bride! There is literally _nothing_ bad you can say about this movie cause it is P-E-R-perfect. Like, one hundred percent, practically perfect in every way kind of amazing.”

“Isn’t that Mary Poppins?” Macy asked, her brain feeling light and her smile loose.

“Still applies.” Maggie answered with a wave before putting in her selection. “But wait’ll you get a load of Wesley, Mace. He’s like, the benchmark for perfection.”

“Yeah, if you like scrawny white guys.” Mel said with a smirk.

“Hey. I don’t limit my options.” Maggie retorted, sticking her tongue out. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard _you_ tell a girl ‘as you wish’ before; a certain someone named _Niko_ maybe?”

Mel’s mouth fell open, and Macy couldn’t help but laugh as the two bickered

“I did not!”

“You did; heard it when I was passing your room one night ‘cause for whatever reason, you totally seemed to think that when Mom was out and the door was closed, nobody on the other side existed.”

“You misheard.” Mel disagreed.

“Nope. You are totally a Wesley, Mels. Just gonna have to face the facts.”

“I’m _definitely_ not a fan of swords.”

“Yeah, but you _are_ a fan of Buttercups.” Maggie teased with a grin.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar.”

Macy and Harry exchanged an amused look, both quite entertained by the pair and both confused by the series of references. The latter was remedied shortly, however, despite the occasional rise of disagreements between Mel and Maggie as they debated whether the younger’s last boyfriend, the one before her demonic dabble, qualified as ‘scrawny white boy’ material or not.

Shortly after the Cliffs of Insanity the movie was paused for a pee break and a switch from wine to Kahlua spiked hot chocolates. The savory snacks were replaced with marshmallows, girl scout cookies and chocolate dipped strawberries, and when they reconvened, it was to all of them squishing onto the couch together, the movies humor and good vibes putting them all in a nice mood.

Harry and Mel took the far ends while Macy squeezed between Maggie and the Whitelighter, the youngest sister snuggling against Mel as they tucked themselves under a blanket, the second blanket thrown across Harry and Macy’s lap because, as Maggie put it, ‘this was the perfect snuggle movie; don’t argue.’

And Maggie had called it. About them liking the movie at least; not quite the snuggle aspect.

Everyone loved the film, Harry included. Macy appreciated its lightheartedness and the underlying sweetness, but she would have been lying had she said the movie held her focus through its entirety. Instead, she was all too aware of Harry’s warmth as their shoulders and arms and legs pressed together, each of his movements sending a frisson across her skin that prickled pleasantly across her scalp. She wanted to mirror her sister and lean against him in the same familiar way that Maggie did to Mel, but instead she’d sat rigid most of the time, too worried that any move could send him fleeing to the armchair or the floor.

“That was rather enjoyable.” Harry said as the credits rolled, though he’d let loose several comments during the duration as well. “I quite liked that Wesley.”

Macy nudged him gently in the ribs.

“You’re just a sword away from _being_ a Wesley yourself, you know.” She joked, and when he laughed and turned his head, she found herself suddenly much closer to him than she remembered being.

Their smiles faded as they stared at one another, the second seeming to drag out so long that Macy could feel her skin start to grow hot as her eyes flicked down to his lips, wondering; wanting. Had they really been sitting this close the entire time? But the second hadn’t been any longer than that, and before the moment could grow into something more, Maggie lifted her arms in the air and let out an excited whoop that drew both their gazes.

“I knew you two would love it!”

“Stop moving so much.” Mel grumbled sleepily from the other side of the couch, her head lulled to the side and her eyes closed.

But Maggie wasn’t having it. She shook Mel, then stood and dragged her up to her feet.

“Oh, no, no, no. No sleep for you yet, missy. We got another round of shots calling our names, then it’s one more movie and we can _really_ get this party going.”

Mel let herself get dragged up and cracked open an eye, looking around for a second until she finally found a clock. It was just shy of midnight. Not late enough for a _bartender_ to throw in the towel by a long shot, so she sighed and nodded and stifled a yawn.

“Yeah okay. Shots. Let’s go.”

It was back to the kitchen then, and due to a rum-flavored- kerfuffle of nobody being able to remember the last five minutes too clearly, the group ended up taking a second round of shots to chase the first. Then of course they debated whether or not they’d had one shot or two. Nobody won the debate, and they agreed to settle on “one-point-five shots, then.”

“You’re turn, Mace.” Maggie announced as she capped the bottle of rum again with one hand and pointed to the pile of movies with the other.

Macy, feeling the weight of liquor and wine and the long day of work merely nodded, then meandered over the table and shuffled through the selection. She went with the weirdest sounding one she could find, and when she held it up, Maggie started to laugh and shake her head.

“ _Earth Girls Are Easy_. Oh. Em. Gee. Are you guys in for something else. I haven’t thought about this movie in years and just—wow. Get ready for something like, seriously weird.”

“Have I seen this one?” Mel asked, squinting at the cover.

“Not sure. This was from my 80’s obsession phase.”

“Oh god I remember that. So much neon. So much Cyndi Lauper.”

“Mom loved it.”

“Yes she did. At least until you kept saying ‘nobody puts baby in the corner,’ every time you got into trouble.”

Once the movie was in and they were all squeezed back on the couch, fresh mugs of spiked hot cocoa in hand, it didn’t take long for everyone to understand what Maggie meant by weird. Weird was an understatement. Macy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, the world around her tipping one way, then the other, and when she opened them again, she was pretty sure that she was still watching fuzzy aliens explore a woman’s suburban home.

“ _What_ are we watching.” She murmured.

“I have no words for it.” Harry responded.

“We officially have our first non-white protagonist!” Mel cheered at the shaved aliens reveal, and Macy snorted out a laugh in response that she quickly covered with her mouth.

When Harry looked at her though the laugh spilled over, and she fell into a fit of giggles that the other Charmed Ones soon joined in on. They paused the movie to finish their stint of laughter, and even the Whitelighter couldn’t resist the compulsion. Minutes later they were all wiping their eyes and fighting off residual chuckles as they caught their breathes.

“That was a thing.” Mel breathed out with a smirk.

“We really need to branch out if we do this again.” Macy stated, wiping away one last laugh-induced tear.

“Done, and done.” Maggie proclaimed. “You guys didn’t even look through everything. I’ve got some amazing Bollywood stuff, plus there’s movies that aren’t _exactly_ classed as romcoms that still totally hit the mark like, let’s see... Oh! Coming to America. Classic, hilarious, and who doesn’t love Eddie Murphy. And then there’s Amelie, Hitch, Clueless—”

“No more after this one tonight.” Mel whined. “And not for a while either. I can only take so much fluff and romance before the pining sets in.”

Her declaration cooled the mood.

Macy thought first about Harry, sitting so close and yet feeling so far away, and then she thought of Galvin, her heart clenching tight when she remembered that he would never be close again. As much as it hurt to admit, she wanted to drown his memory in more wine and the arms of someone else who’s touch didn’t break her heart. With that thought in mind, she swallowed down the last gulp of her now cold drink.

“I know how you feel.” Maggie said, her voice soft. “It’s been months, and not a single word from Parker yet. It sucks. I don’t know if alive, if he’s okay, if he’s—

“Parker is fine Maggie.” Harry’s gentle voice interrupted. “He’s half-demon, which means he’s far more resilient than most. He’ll reach out when the time is right. And,” he leaned forward to get a better look at Mel. “Niko is out there. In this very city. She’s wearing your protection ring and she’s well aware of what you are. Take heart that she hasn’t left. That _does_ mean something.”

Maggie sniffled and wiped at her eyes as Mel gave a nod, and Macy’s throat felt constricted with emotion. She didn’t want to face it right now, not while her sisters were there to witness it, so instead she gave them a look of sympathy and smiled.

“How ‘bout we refill and start the movie back up. Hmm?”

“Sounds good.” Maggie agreed.

And so that’s what they did. Mugs were refilled, cookies were shared, and by the time the nail artist climbed aboard the spacecraft to leave the Earth forever, Mel was snoring lightly, her head cradled in her arm on the side of the couch with Maggie leaning against her, also fast asleep. As the credits rolled, Harry shifted, and Macy was hyperaware of him again, the nonsensical movie no longer there to distract her.

“I should go.” He stated, keeping his voice low.

Macy turned her head to him and frowned.

“You could stay the night, you know.”

“I wouldn’t wish to impose.”

She shook her head.

“You could never. We like having you around,” she said, then used the liquid courage burning in her belly to add, “ _I_ like having you around.”

“Macy...” He seemed at a loss for what to say next, but she had something waiting on the tip of her tongue that was finally ready to fly free.

“I’m so sorry about Charity.” They stared at one another in silence for several breaths, his expression difficult to read, so Macy forged ahead. “I know we never talk about it. But, losing Galvin wrecked me. I can’t imagine what you’ve been feeling.”

She grabbed his hand then with both of hers then and rested them on her leg, her empty mug wedged between her other thigh and Maggie’s. She saw him swallow, his eyes darting down to their hands and then back up to her eyes.

“You don’t have to be alone in this.” She went on, the wine and the rum and the emotions wrought from the movies all converging into something heady. “Even if you don’t want—” No, she didn’t want to go there yet. “I mean—‘cause we’re here for you. You know? You can talk to me. I may not have known him as long as you knew her, but it still hurts. Sometimes talking helps.”

Harry’s eyes darted over to the sleeping sisters and then back again. He swallowed, then moved his hand so that their fingers were entwined now, giving her hand a gentle, comforting squeeze.

“It isn’t quite the same, Macy. Galvin was _good_ man. He sacrificed himself to save the lives of others, and there is no braver act of heroism. Charity,” he paused, frowned, and lowered his eyes to their hands. “She murdered others out of fear. She lied and deceived us, and she even tried to hurt you; all of you. I was blinded by my feelings for her and couldn’t see the truth for what it was.”

His eyes rose again.

“There is, quite frankly, no comparison. My failure is my own, and there are no excuses for it.”

“Harry that’s not—”

“Please don’t apologize for her again. Your Galvin was honourable, and he’s worth every ounce of your mourning. Charity is not. She is my burden to endure, and mine alone.”

“But...” Macy frowned, trying to understand how their conversation had gone so wrong. “I don’t want you to endure it alone. Let me— _us_ —be there for you. Aren’t we at least friends enough for that?”

Harry gave her a sad smile.

“Sometimes Macy, the safest path is one we walk alone.”

“I don’t believe that.”

The sadness faded from his expression a little, and he reached out with his free hand to place it atop their already conjoined ones, his thumb lightly brushing against her wrist.

“And I truly hope that you never do. Good night Macy. I’ll return in the morning.”

“Will you?” She didn’t believe him, not when he was practically pushing her away.

“You have my word.”

He lifted her hand to his face then and pressed a kiss against the back of it, his eyes locked onto hers the entire time. She opened her mouth to say something more, her heart pounding with a multitude of emotions and the excitement his chaste affection had stirred, but before she could, he orbed out of the room with a quiet whoosh of sound, leaving her hand to hang empty in the air.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She whispered to the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a little longer than I intended, and I'm not really all that satisfied with it either. I didn't want to wait too much longer before posting again though, so I'm sorry for the strange tonal shift. I feel like half of this was silly fun and the other have was heavy angst. Hope that wasn't too jarring a contrast. I doubly pray that nobody was too OOC either, but do feel free to let me know if there are any issues or complaints. 
> 
> Really though, I just genuinely hope you guys enjoyed this, because I had fun writing this chapter even if I'm not completely happy with it.
> 
> I've never really written romance before, so my confidence isn't crazy high about the execution. I also don't mean to be dragging this out, but every time I want to push them together the characters just don't work with me when I consider their motivations and baggage. Fingers crossed we get there soon though.
> 
> Oh, and also, also... hope I didn't offend anyone with some of my commentary here. It's just I realized after looking for (mostly) popular romcoms to use in this chapter that a stunning majority of them features all white casts, so I thought that Mel might be the perfect person to point that out. Sorry if it bothered anyone though!!


End file.
